


Second-Rate Stepdaughter of Fate

by JasminePoisonTea



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-09-20 23:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17031858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JasminePoisonTea/pseuds/JasminePoisonTea
Summary: You were determined to get an A on your research assignment...you weren't expecting your solo trip to Mount Ebott to go this badly.





	1. On top of Mount Ebott

**Author's Note:**

> Baby's first fanfic. - I'm playing around with world building through the eyes of a bystander. It was an interesting experiment. We will see where it goes :D

Five hours. You had been on this mountain for...correction, 5 hours and 22 minutes, trying to finish your upcoming assignment. You didn’t belong up here, you were no extrovert. You desperately missed air conditioning, your computer, and not being a sweaty and gross mess. However, you wanted nothing more than to get an A+ in this godforsaken class for the sake of keeping your GPA on track to  Summa Cum Laude. Therefore, every assignment counted, and that meant being determined enough to jump through whatever hoops your current professor decided to whimsy up.

 

The project was to investigate a legend, myth or conspiracy theory and effectively argue both sides of the argument using as much information as possible. The catch was that Simply using books and articles as resources was cause to immediately start the grading at an 80% A death sentence for your GPA. The professor wanted field research.

 

So here you are. Roughing it on the mountain in the humid evening sun, trying to make two opposing arguments about “The Missing Children of Ebott.”

 

Disproving that children were “spirited away” on Mount Ebott was the easy part. Every rural town has its legends and myths. More often than not, it follows a tragedy or a crime that took place in the vicinity and the resulting legend would serve as a warning to keep people safe and away from dangerous locations.  God knows that the abandoned,  derelict  town of Ebott had more than its fair share of tragedies and secrets, even before recurring landslides all but leveled the secluded town.

 

But an argument supporting the spiriting away of children? That was a hard one. Granted, you were raised in a religious household despite your habit of questioning everything, so you were well aware that many held the belief of the likes of  Ghosts, spirits, and demons tempting people into danger.

 

Your grand plan was to take pictures of the mountain’s flora in different locations, trying to get the same elements in each shot - Parallel, identical trees that obscure the skyline and waist-high shrubbery that obscures the forest floor. 

 

In this way, you can reference the local legends of the vengeful, magical forest creatures that confuse innocent travelers to lose their sense of direction, never to be seen again - and showing pictures of nearly identical images taken in different locations on the mountain.

 

The final photo that you had in mind to tie it all together was to get access to a high enough spot on the mountain for a birds-eye view of your previous picture spots. You would then reference where each picture was taken for maximum impact of the possibility of people getting lost up here back in the day without a proper map.

 

Heck, even today, with all of our technology, Cell phones didn’t work out here, so you couldn’t simply call your way out of a bad situation and expect to be found without a map or a VERY good idea of the layout of the mountain.

 

As soon as this picture could be shot, you could FINALLY go the hell home. That thought alone gave you enough motivation to give one final push up the mountain. You are higher up than where the normal hiking trails are, but you didn’t worry too much. The map given to you at the park’s entrance was very detailed so you knew exactly what to expect, Nothing but trees, trees, yet still more trees and the remnants of what was once a cave before the most recent landslide a few years back. But you only needed one panoramic picture. You’d be up and down in a  _ flash _ . You chuckled at your internal camera punning as you trudged onward.

 

The vegetation grew more thick and wild the higher you climbed in the low evening sun, making it harder to see the spot that you had your eye on for the photo. Even so, you pushed on, navigating the twisting roots and vines with one methodical tiptoe after the other, the map guiding your way. A grin forming from your new found happiness with your promise of accomplishment just on the horizon.

 

You believed that Fate had a way of knowing you were about accomplish something and was always there to slap you back to reality, like an abusive stepparent. Fate always loomed over you, letting you know that no matter how much you want something, or how determined your soul is, or how accomplished you think are and how careful you plan each step: The hard truth is, Not everyone is destined for greatness. The average human is not fated for anything greater than slightly above average in this world, even when putting in 100% effort in a fortunate situation.

 

And that all-knowing Stepmother will promptly knock her stepchildren off their high-horse with tough love if they try to become too paramount in a spotlight that doesn’t belong to them. And never will.

 

The latest hard-knock from Fate came following a misjudged step as you were being your own comedian, causing the thick tentacle-like shrubbery to seemingly velcro itself to your ankle, acting as a fulcrum as your body rotated to the ground below.

 

Before you could process the situation, gravity took hold as you fell, and seemingly in slow motion, the darkness of the sudden abyss below reached out from the right of you to catch your falling form. 

 

By sheer luck, and your panicked flailing, you tangle your arm in a mess of the offending snaggled vines, guiding your fall to the ledge of hard rock that rimmed the pit before you, Effectively knocking the wind out of your lungs.

 

Moaning painfully, and desperately trying force your bruised core to remember how to inhale, you have enough mind to hoist yourself up from the ledge and roll away from the black hole, the stress of your movement causing the tangled vines to snap and come with you to safety.  You came to a rest, lying on your back a few yards away, out of immediate danger as you force another excruciating, and ineffective gasp for breath before moaning once more and rolling to your side. 

 

The rush of adrenaline was pricking your scalp and your fingertips were beginning to numb as you clutched your chest, trying to still your painfully throbbing heart. 

 

You knew death knew no prejudice or discrimination, but geezus...That was...that could’ve been....it. Just like that. Game Over. A very painful Game Over. How did you not see this pit on the map? How did you not see it as you approached this side of the mountain until you were almost falling into it?

 

Assuming that you miraculously survived the near 100ft fall, which was highly improbable, there’s no way your out of shape-ass was going to be able to climb back up, Even if you landed without shattering any bones. 

 

You lay panting and shaking, recounting the symptoms of cardiac arrest, and your logical-self assuring you that this was just a panic attack, caused by adrenaline and oxygen deprivation and that your life not in any danger, although calling for help sounded like a good idea.  However, your phone wasn’t getting any better reception from when you parked your car at the entrance over 6 hours ago. If you didn’t get the hell up and out of here before the sun had set, you’d easily die out here of dehydration or worse if you passed out before someone else discovered this hellish, and again, unmarked orifice in the mountain. 

 

Catching your breath enough to rock yourself to your knees, you steady yourself against a tree and hoist yourself up to your feet, wincing as the raw skin rubbed against the coarse bark.

 

Staring back at the dark void,  you easily reaffirm how properly fucked you’d be if you had been positioned a few inches to the right when you tripped, the thought alone causing you to empty the contents of your stomach. It was mostly the water from your hike up.

 

Your logical-self had to again remind you that nausea is also a normal side effect following a stressful situation and unlikely due to a heart attack. But as “normal” as it was, the Death by dehydration fear seemed to become more legitimate than ever.

 

As you stumble in the direction of the trail and them finally the exit, one painful step after the other, the sign over the parking lot slowly came into view. A familiar lump forms in your throat, and your mind forms the clearest least determined thought you’ve had all day.

 

“Fuck you, and this assignment. I’m going home.” You say to the mountain, angry tears pricking your eyes as you hold your bruised ribs. For a moment, you were almost certain that it is mocking you for your attempts to best it with its ominous shadow against the purple twilight.

 

As you begin your drive out of the rural town back to your suburban apartment bruised and discouraged, the unmarked gaping entrance to the belly of the mountain silently shrinks and encloses, leaving nothing but the solid ground and golden wildflowers as if it had never existed.


	2. 6 to 8 skeletons and a maid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Stepdaughter from a different timeline and place tries to become the main character of a reverse-harem.

It was the last week of February and like every month, you were stressing out. You've been Job hunting on an off for the past 3 months, looking for something different. Anything was better than your current job.

Sure, you liked the people there, the bosses were friendly enough, and the pay was decent, but the job itself was the issue. Simply put, it was a never-ending conveyer belt of tasks and paperwork, of customers on the phone asking the same questions and spouting the same phrases over and over, like a video game cutscene that keeps replaying after you die. Yet there was no A button to smash to skip.

You weren't in a rush to leave, stability was the main reason why you stayed so long, but at the same time, you knew you couldn't keep doing this forever. Your feelings towards the position see-sawed from "hopeless defeat" to "blank-staring apathy" -not to mention You've gained 15 pounds in the last year since working here. So...theres that for a red flag.

So over the last three months, you would casually peruse the job sections in any medium you happened upon. Usually, this was online: Facebook, Glassdoor, craigslist...You'd highlight, star and save a good 20 to 30 positions...only to apply to maybe one or two. Ultimately, talking yourself out applying, convincing yourself that you weren't qualified, didn't have the education or experience, wouldn't be considered worth the gamble to train up...that you would be wasting THEIR time by even asking about it...

This self-deprecating habit of yours was yet another nasty red flag as to why this job search was going so poorly, despite being very intelligent and great with customers satisfaction.

So here you were again like a religious ritual, the last week of the month, once again emboldened to job search, this time picking up a newspaper someone left in the breakroom at lunch. Taking a bite of lunch in one hand and wielding a highlighter in your non-dominant hand, you messily highlight job after job that meets your qualifications and most likely, your salary expectations.

A lot of them were supervisor roles at retail chains, they were lower paying, but easy to manage and relatively low stress.

You find a banker position as a Credit Union that might be an interesting change of pace, You did work as a teller once early on in college, so you figure you might have a foot in the door there. You messily circle that box a few times as you read the rather wordy Help wanted Ad two spaces below.

_"Good day, humans! I hope you are having a good day. I am in search of a live-in home cleaning provider and or maid/HouseKeeper. I hope to find a caring person who has no bias towards_ monsterkind _(specifically Skeleton Monsters) and even-tempered in response towards all personality types -"_

A live-in Maid at a monsterhouse? That sounded super exciting. Monsterhouses tended to be high-end gated mini-mansions where groups of 5 or more monsters would live together. Rumor had it that it was safer for them to live in groups on gated properties as it drastically lowered the frequency of hate crimes...the fronts of newspapers had a lot of gruesome front-page stories for a few years when the monsters first resurfaced. Apparently, photos of monster dust aren't "Sensitive" enough material to be censored like a human's dead body...You shake the thoughts from your head and continue reading.

_"My abode is home to 6 - 8 adult residents depending on the time of year. Household requires general room area cleaning and organization. We would also like laundry done if possible as well as Dinner to be prepared at least on weekdays. It is an asset if you have personal transportation available. Our best-possible employee would have worked in a professional cleaning capacity as well as have experience with monsters of all types, although this is not necessary to apply._ The number _to contact is-"_

  
Well, you definitely had none of those "best possible" qualifications...You begin to think that you shouldn't waste their time by -

  
You realize you are doing it again...assuming the worst before you even give yourself a chance...You were going to do it. You were going to call.  
Taking another determined bite of your lunch, you check your phone for the time - 10 minutes left until you have to go back to work. Plenty of time to call and ask for an interview! You pick up the phone and dial the area code...

This is a job that you could easily excel in - you've been cleaning since you were a kid, how hard could it be? It's not like they were children - you take the time to read the ad again - Yep "adults residents". This couldn't be that bad. Bathrooms are Always the worst part of cleaning, but you could do it! You Dial the next three digits of the and pause in thought again. Your hands are getting clammy.

Monsters though...do they even have a bathroom? Everything they eat is converted to magic, so you would assume not...but according to building codes in this state, I'm sure a house legally would need a functioning bathroom...and they probably need to at least shower or bathe.

Your heartbeat started picking up...you can hear it in your ears...God, you hated talking on the phone. Call it a "millennial" thing, but you hated calling, texting and emails just came more naturally, less candid, more time to plan your tone, and word choice...

You type the last four digits and went to press Send - but paused again hesitating for some unknown reason. Your mind fabricates dozens of reasons why you SHOULDN'T do it.

This was stupid. You know you aren't some shy little teenager, you are grown adult with bills to pay and you are being silly about calling a potential job lead. Even if the pay was below your expectations, with room and board included- This was still a great deal. You could save up a decent nest egg in no time, Even take an online class or a 2nd job remotely to grab some extra cash.

You go to press send - and see the time on your phone...2 minutes until your lunch break ends..not enough time. You sigh in a mixture of defeat and relief and folded the Help wanted ad over and stuffed it in your purse. You would call them after work.

But You come home from work tired...you want to sound your best when you call, you decide best to wait until tomorrow.  
Tomorrow comes and goes. And you, face to the screen, busting your ass, as usual, forget all about the ad.

You wake up Saturday morning with a start, suddenly remembering the ad that you were supposed to call on 3 days ago.

This time, you waste NO time - leaping out of bed in your pajamas, messy hair, crusty eyes and all, Even doing a "power pose", fist on hip, that is supposed to help with confidence. You snatch the ad out of the purse on your dresser and dial the number without giving yourself a chance to back out.  
But, Oh God, the ringing, the ringing was the worst part, your stomach was in knots instantly. It rings twice, three times, then a fourth agonizing time until a deep smooth voice speaks, _"Talk to me."_

You breathe in, _"oh, um Hello, my name is Y/N and I am - I am inquiring about the position for a live-in housemaid? I have experience in-"_

  
The voice chuckles, cutting you off . _"too late sweetheart, that position was filled a week ago. But if this one doesn't last, or if we need a second maid, ill give ya a ring, how's that?"_

" _A-ah, I see, Sorry about that! thank you for your time and have a good day!"_ you say in your best fake customer service voice and end the call immediately. You let out a heavy sigh. The relief washing over you for a brief moment.

 Once the moment passes, all you feel is frustration. ALL that anxiety and build up over 3 days for NOTHING! How on earth was the position filled a week ago when the ad was in last Sunday's paper?

You snatch up the paper and scanned it once more, but this time with purpose. Typed in the corner of the page near the name of the newspaper company... " _February 10th"_. This was a paper from 2 weeks ago...probably why it was just left in the breakroom in the first place. The position was closed and filled before you even found that cursed paper. Heh...funny.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath... letting it sink in.

It was like fate itself LOVED to keep you in mediocrity - and delighted in watching your failed attempts for anything grander than it felt you were worthy of. The stepmother that provides its "child" the pure basics to keep it functioning and alive, maybe a sprinkle of kindness to purely save face in the public eye...but nothing more.

Your eyes snap open in a glare, You crush the paper in your hand and pitch it as hard as you can to the adjacent wall. It flutters uselessly a mere three feet away to the carpet. Highly unsatisfying. You sink to the carpet, swallowing the lump trying to form in your throat....at least its the weekend. Maybe you could apply to that bank job if it was still open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I accidentally another chapter. THIS Y/N is a different one than the previous one. Another Stepdaughter for me to deny access to being the main character of their story. I feel like I find it a little TOO interested to take the main character and screw her out of her chances of being THE main character. No harem house for you, sweetie. now go back to work.


End file.
